Reunion on the Tracks (Part 1)
The gentle, rhythmic sway of the Hogwarts Express created a hypnotic atmosphere, as if the train itself was lulling its passengers into a world separate from reality. Inside a private compartment, enveloped in cozy dimness, Lily rested against Filius. Her head found comfort on his chest, where she could hear not only the steady beat of his heart but also the unspoken promise of safety he always emanated. His fingers lightly intertwined with hers, a silent contact that spoke more than words. The landscape outside passed by like a moving painting, but neither of them paid it any mind; they were immersed in their own bubble of tranquility.
Her mind, however, refused to stay in the present. It traveled back in time, returning to their first meeting, marked not by courtesy but by chaos. The Death Eater ambush, the visceral fear, the feeling of powerlessness. And then, the apparition. Filius, with his then mere eight years, did not seem like a child in that moment. Standing between her and the danger, his small hands had woven magic with an authority that defied logic, dissipating the threat as if they were fragile shadows. From there, an unlikely friendship was born, cultivated in letters exchanged in secret and furtive meetings. She remembered clearly James's irrational jealousy, his complaints and suspicions about that "prodigy boy." "He's a child, James!" she had laughed, certain of the absurdity of that envy. How could she imagine that the threads of destiny were already being woven so intricately?
Then, her memory jumped to the moment that preceded the tragedy. A visibly disturbed Filius had found her in an isolated corner of The Three Broomsticks. The seriousness on his youthful face was almost frightening.
Filius: (His voice an urgent whisper) "Lily, the storm is approaching. Voldemort knows. He knows about the prophecy." His silver eyes fixed on her, laden with a weight that did not belong to his age. From the depths of his robes, he retrieved an ancient silver locket, engraved with runes so subtle they seemed to whisper. "This... this must remain with you. Always."
Lily: (Taking the object, feeling its cold and unexpected weight) "Filius, what is it? A protection?"
Filius: "It's... something more complex. An anchor." He avoided her direct gaze, focusing on the runes. "There is a text, in the oldest archives of my family's library. It speaks of a sacrifice... an act of love so pure it can shape destiny itself. If one day... if the darkness comes, and you have no choice... remember that spell. And keep the locket with you. It's crucial."
He explained no further. He did not speak of the artifact's true purpose, a key piece in a plan he, in his precocious genius, had begun to devise. He did not reveal that the locket was a receptacle, a beacon of the Umbra family's ancestral shadow magic, designed not to prevent death, but to grasp its essence at the final instant and guide it back, whatever the cost. For him, it was a possibility, a calculated risk. For her, it was just an amulet and vague information.
The memory then plunged into the darkness of that final night. The blast of the door, the tall, slender figure of Voldemort invading the nursery. Harry's crying piercing her like a dagger. The despair. And then, like a flash, Filius's words echoed in her mind. Sacrifice. Love. The spell. Without hesitation, she placed herself in the path, her body becoming a living shield. "Not Harry, please, kill me instead!" her voice, a heart-wrenching scream of maternal love. The green flash hit her squarely, an excruciating and absolute pain that consumed all her senses. On the threshold of eternal darkness, however, she felt the locket against her chest explode in intense heat, a violent pull at her navel, as if a hook were yanking her from the abyss. And then, nothing.
Until, four years later, she awoke. The white, artificial light of the hospital, the sterile smell, the confusion. The soft voice of the nurse confirming her worst fear: four lost years.
"My husband... My children... Harry!" the question came out as a broken whisper, laden with ancestral terror.
Before the answer came, the door opened. And he was there. Not the eleven-year-old boy who had left for Hogwarts, but a young man of seventeen. His features still bore the mark of youth, but his eyes... his silver eyes bore witness to centuries of pain and determination. It was Filius, but transformed by the passage of time and the weight of secrets she couldn't even imagine.
"Lily," his voice was a safe harbor in the storm of her confusion, his firm hands enveloping her trembling ones.
She tried to speak, but only a whisper came out. He pulled her into an embrace, and she felt not only relief, but a deep, immeasurable sadness in him. "You've returned to us," he whispered in her ear, and she felt his words like a healing spell.
When the initial commotion subsided, he sat on the edge of the bed, his presence a pillar of serenity.
"Harry survived, Lily. He is safe, protected," his first words were a balm to her torn soul. He then asked the question he already knew the answer to. "You... you used the sacrifice spell, didn't you? The one from the ancient texts."
She confirmed with a weak nod, silent tears streaming down her face. "I... I read it, as you said. How did I survive, Filius? The Killing Curse..."
He squeezed her hand, his gaze deep and impenetrable. "Some magics transcend our understanding, Lily. Love... love is a force with its own rules. The important thing is that you are here. The rest... the rest doesn't matter now."
He then guided her through the painful history of the years she had lost. The madness of Frank and Alice Longbottom, a stab to the heart. Sirius's imprisonment in Azkaban, an injustice that enraged her. Peter's fake death, the piece that didn't fit. Through it all, Filius's constant, calming presence was her anchor. He assisted in her recovery, fought bureaucracy for her release, and introduced her to the world he had shaped in her absence: the Court of Owls, a network of power and influence that already dominated Magical Britain and was expanding.
And then, redemption. Using his power, he undid the injustice against Sirius and, most importantly, returned Harry to her arms. It was a moment of healing and new beginnings.
Now, on the train, nestled against him, Lily looked at the locket that still rested under her robes. Her mind couldn't fully decipher the mystery of her survival, but her heart, it knew. It knew that every breath, every moment with her son, was a gift not from chance, but from that young man whose heart beat steadily beneath her ear. A profound gratitude and an even deeper affection began to blossom in her chest, taking root in fertile soil of sacrifice and loyalty.
The characteristic screech of the train's brakes announced their arrival at Hogsmeade, breaking the spell of the moment. With a sincere sigh of reluctance, they separated, the warmth of the other's body giving way to the cool night air entering through the window.
As they stepped onto the busy platform and headed towards the carriages pulled by the invisible Thestrals, Lily watched Filius instinctively adjust the two wands at his hip. Her eyes landed on the older one, and she remembered. Its core was a hair from a Thestral's tail. A fitting reminder, she thought, for someone who not only understood the mysteries of life and death but had become its master, snatching her from the clutches of one to return her to the other.
Part 2: The Fundamentals of Magical Dueling
The air in Professor Umbra's classroom was electric. The environment, transformed into a circular dueling arena with walls protected by golden shielding enchantments, was impressive. The second-year students entered in groups, their whispers full of anticipation as they observed the unusual space. In the center, Filius Umbra waited, motionless, his silver robes contrasting with the dark floor of the arena. Beside him, Natasha Romanoff maintained an alert posture, her imposing presence adding an air of seriousness to the environment.
"Natasha, the attendance, please," requested Filius, his voice calm but carrying a natural authority.
As Natasha went through the list efficiently, Filius observed each student. "Where's Ada today?" Pansy whispered to Draco.
"Egis and her family affairs," he replied in an equally low tone.
"Since the first year," Filius began, as soon as attendance was concluded, "you began the foundations of practical magic. Now, in the second year, we will take the next step. We will begin the true practices that will define your path as witches and wizards." He made a dramatic pause. "It's still too early for the unpredictability of real magical battles, but it's the perfect time to master the formalized art of dueling."
He meticulously explained the rules: the mandatory initial bow, the correct position of wands at the start of the duel, the spells permitted at this basic stage, and the universal gesture to cease confrontation.
"Now," he questioned, walking slowly among the students, "what is one of the most important things for a good duelist?"
Several hands went up.
"Knowing many spells,Professor!" shouted a girl from Ravenclaw.
"Having fast reflexes!"added a boy from Hufflepuff.
"Focusing on the opponent,"said Hermione Granger, confidently.
Filius smiled, a rare gesture. "Correct, all of you. Knowledge, reflexes, and focus are essential. But you forgot to mention a fundamental physical component: the Battle Stance."
He stopped, looking at each of them. "Through the centuries, great duelists have created and refined specific stances and grips. Mastering a stance isn't just about how to position yourself; it's about channeling your magic more efficiently."
It was then that Seamus Finnigan, excitedly, raised his hand. "Professor! Will you teach us the stance you invented? The Dual Wielding?"
Filius laughed. "An ambitious question, Mr. Finnigan. First, let me ask you: do you have, first and foremost, two wands?"
Seamus's face flushed intensely, and laughter spread through the class.
Ron whispered to Harry and Hermione: "That stance must be really difficult, right?"
Filius heard the comment. "Extremely difficult, Mr. Weasley. Many powerful families have developed their own stances. Dual Wielding is considered by many to be the strongest, but its requirements make it almost prohibitive."
He listed the challenges. "First, a wizard must be able to bond with two wands. As Mr. Ollivander says, 'the wand chooses the wizard'. Obtaining a second wand is just the beginning. It will rarely respond at 100% of its capacity."
"Second," he continued, "is the ability to split attention. The core of Dual Wielding is using one wand to defend while the other attacks, simultaneously."
Pansy Parkinson raised her hand. "Professor, if it's so impossible, why is there a difference between users? I heard in a tournament about 'complete' and 'incomplete' users."
"An astute observation, Miss Parkinson," Filius praised. "Although theoretically impossible, magic always finds exceptions. There are very rare cases where a wizard can use two wands to their maximum potential."
He made a dramatic pause. "To illustrate, see my example."
With fluid movements, he first drew a black and elegant wand. "This is my wand. Ebony with a Thestral tail hair core." Then, he drew a second, beautiful white wand. "And this was my mother's wand."
The room fell into absolute silence.
"My mother was ambushed by Death Eaters when I was being born. Her last magical act was a protection spell over me, using this wand. The bond of love and sacrifice created a connection that transcends normal rules. That kind of bond is what separates an incomplete user from a complete one."
He put the wands away. "Now, the history lesson is over. It's time for practice. Form two lines!"
As the students organized themselves, Ron pulled Harry aside. "Harry, remember what Dumbledore said about your mother using a sacrifice spell to protect you?"
Harry nodded. "I remember. Why?"
Ron looked toward Filius. "Well... if it's a sacrifice that creates this complete thing, couldn't you use your mother's wand? Or your father's?"
Harry became thoughtful. "That's a good question, Ron. I'll ask him later."
Filius began demonstrating the "Hogwarts Pressure Stance," created jointly with Dumbledore, Flitwick, and Snape. "Observe: feet firm, knees bent, wand in guard position..."
As the students practiced the basic movements of attack and defense, Harry couldn't stop thinking about Ron's words. The possibility of honoring his parents' sacrifice in such a practical and powerful way echoed in his mind, promising answers that could change his destiny.